


Comforting Light

by Kateis_Cakeis



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Romance, Soulmates, Takes place in an AU pilotverse just 'casue :P, pilotverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-29 22:59:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12095304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kateis_Cakeis/pseuds/Kateis_Cakeis
Summary: As a child, you’re given a toy that is bound to you and your DNA. They have lights in the middle that guide towards your soulmate. As children grow, the light naturally becomes a great comfort to them. It shines with a purple colour when their soulmate is alive and glows green when they are near. If the light goes pink, their soulmate is ill. And no one ever wants to see the light go dark red, or black, for that means their soulmate is surely dead.But how would Sherlock Holmes deal with such a thing? Would he ever resent it? Or would he embrace it? And in a world full of people embarrassed by their toys, would he ever find his soulmate?





	Comforting Light

* * *

 

_As a child, you’re given a toy that is bound to you and your DNA. They have lights in the middle that guide towards your soulmate. As children grow, the light naturally becomes a great comfort to them. It shines with a purple colour when their soulmate is alive and glows green when they are near. If the light goes pink, their soulmate is ill. And no one ever wants to see the light go dark red, or black, for that means their soulmate is surely dead._

* * *

 

Sherlock found the idea stupid. They could have invented anything with the light embedded. A compass, a pen, anything but a toy. However, as a child he found that light incredibly comforting and he didn’t think it was stupid at all. Even as an adult, he enjoyed having the toy around.

Sherlock had gotten his toy when he was five, some would say that was too early and others would say it was a bit late. But to Sherlock, he didn’t care. He admired his parent’s toys on the mantelpiece, a focal point for their love. An owl and a starling. Whilst Mycroft tried to keep his toy hidden, in a box. But that didn’t stop Sherlock. One day, when Mycroft was out, Sherlock peaked into the box. Little joyous Sherlock slowly took a cloth off the toy and observed the beauty. A corgi. Suiting for the boy that would become the _British Government_.

When his parents took him to one of the many special shops, he knew it was finally happening. He stared at the selection of animals he could choose from. Dogs, cats, exotic animals. It was all there, thousands of designs. Soon, little Sherlock spotted an otter. A little otter. He giggled at first, pointing at the model, babbling on about how it looked like him.

While the otter was being stuffed, Sherlock was taken into a room. A nurse prepped him up and with the sure permission from his parents, blood was taken from Sherlock’s arm. He was incredibly brave, he barely winced. He did cry a little but stopped suddenly due to the fact that it didn’t matter, he was going to get his soulmate toy through doing this.

His blood was registered, sorted through and eventually, with his DNA isolated, it was implemented into the special light. Now, the light, the device itself isn’t a light at all. Calling it a light was more colloquial than anything. No, it was a special blue gem that required DNA in order to activate it. The DNA causes the gem to light up, with the colours of the condition of the soulmate.

Soon enough, the otter had been stuffed and at a certain machine, the hole in its chest was filled with the light. The gem itself was still transferring from blue to purple, to the relief of Sherlock’s parents. It was pressed in and stitched to the toy. A happy little otter with a bulging light coming from its chest.

A staff member happily handed the toy over to Sherlock and with a quick payment thirty pounds, the otter was surely Sherlock’s. His eyes fixated on the purple, the glowing purple. He knew now, his soulmate was definitely alive and well.

Sherlock constantly played with his new toy and sometimes used it as a nightlight. That purple colour was always comforting. In fact, people in general saw that purple colour as comfort. It consumed markets, everything from sofas to kitchen tops. Green even more so, that was especially uplifting. As you had your soulmate beside you, or close to you.

The purple was like if you took a purple flower and crushed it down, only to pour blackcurrant dilutey juice over it and soak the remains of the flower in the liquid. Whilst the green was like freshly cut grass, all dense and dark, a rich colour.

It took Sherlock many more years to realise why some people resented the toy. It meant you were forcefully bound to knowing the constant state your soulmate was in. Whether they were healthy or ill with the cold. Some people disliked the fact that it was thrust upon them, that they had to know they had a soulmate at all.

Mycroft was one of those people. He tended to keep his soulmate toy in a box, far away from him. As Sherlock grew up, he would question Mycroft’s motives but it took until Sherlock was eleven, to know the truth.

“You should look at your light,” Sherlock said, from Mycroft’s doorway. His room was immaculate and an umbrella was balanced in the corner while Mycroft lay upon his bed, smoking.

“One day you’ll get why I keep it in that box, brother mine. For now, go play outside or whatever you kids do.”

“Mycroft,” Sherlock warned sternly, stamping his foot. “Your soulmate could be ill or… dead. You need to know these things!”

Mycroft rolled his eyes and sat up. He squashed his cigarette into an ash tray on his bedside table. “Why? Because society tells me to?”

“No… Because they’re the love of your life.”

Mycroft stared Sherlock down as he spoke. “You know a person can have more than one soulmate? It’s like their second choice, I suppose. The dark red isn’t because your soulmate is dying, brother dear. The dark red is because your first soulmate is dead but another exists. If it goes black, you either only had one or all others are dead.”

“Oh…” Sherlock’s eyes dipped to the ground. “But, I still don’t get why you hide it in a box.”

Mycroft lay back on his bed. “Caring is not an advantage, Sherlock…”

“Something happened, didn’t it?”

Mycroft’s eyes closed. “When I was far younger, the light went pink but the edges were black. I panicked, wrapped my toy up and hid it in a box. I didn’t want to look… and I haven’t since.”

“I looked once.”

Mycroft’s eyes flung open. “What?!” He jolted up. “What- what did you see?”

“It was purple. The sides were pink but it was mostly purple!” Sherlock said with a smile on his face.

Mycroft’s shoulders relaxed and a smile sprung to his lips. “Thank god… I really thought they had died.”

“It’s scary, I know that. I’ve seen my light glow pink but it always turns out fine in the end.”

Mycroft nodded lightly. “You have to hope that you’re the lucky one.”

“Yes… we do.” Sherlock grinned and ran back to his room, leaving Mycroft to ponder.

As Sherlock grew older, he did copious amounts of research on the soulmate toys. Specifically, on the colours, because in the line of detective work, you have to know what each colour and mixture of colours means, to the letter.

It’s particularly useful when a husband or wife has a new soulmate by their side but their old partner is lying dead in a morgue. Using the colours of the toy, the mixture of dark red and green, it’s evident that the murder was carried out in order to be with this new soulmate.

Sherlock never resented his toy but he wished it was more practical. As people become adults, they would never take their toy out in public, they kept it secret due to embarrassment. Which made finding your soulmate very difficult. But Sherlock was never dissuaded, taking his toy out in public was a regular thing, especially at Bart’s. There, he knew it was safe to have such a thing out in public. It was easy just to say it was an experiment and people would leave his motives well alone.

However, one night, Sherlock was up late, looking at his toy. He smiled at the purple but soon, it was consumed by pink, with black surrounding the outside. In a flurry of panic, Sherlock threw his toy off the bed and wrapped himself in the covers. He cried lightly and continued to do so until he fell asleep.

Once the morning rolled around and Sherlock was awake, he was reluctant. He didn’t want to open his eyes as his somewhat dark room would surely let the colour of the light consume it. But he was hungry, thirsty and desperate for the loo and so, he slowly opened his eyes. To his delight, all he saw was a pink colour cast on his wall, with purple shining through in places.

It took a few weeks but when Sherlock was at Bart’s, experimenting in the lab, the pinkish light finally became a full purple again. At this, a smile settled on his lips.

A couple of days after, Sherlock was at a computer, working away. Mike, as usual, had questioned him about his soulmate toy while he was trying to get Sherlock to leave the computer room.

“So, what are you doing with your toy this time?” he asked.

Sherlock switched off his monitor, shrugged his coat on and stuffed his little otter into his pocket. “Oh, you know, just a bit of research. I like to have it with me, to compare.” He wrapped his scarf around his neck and turned on his heel, to give a little smile to Mike.

“Uh huh, sure.” Mike just shook his head with a smug grin on. “How about that flat you were looking at?”

Sherlock made his way over to Mike and edged towards the door. He shrugged. “The landlady won’t let me move in until I find a flatmate.”

“Really? Why?” Mike questioned, with a chuckle in his breath.

“Because… she thinks I’m lonely.”

“Well, it can’t be too hard to find a flatmate.”

“But, I’m not really what people look for in a flatmate.”

Mike shot Sherlock a reassuring smile. “I’m sure you’ll find someone.”

“Hm, perhaps.” Sherlock moved further towards the door. “I’m going out to lunch, will you be done with this room after?”

“Probably,” Mike said as Sherlock dashed out of the room.

Much later, after a bit of corpse whipping, Sherlock was back in the computer room, typing up emails. In which one said:

_‘If the brother’s light glows dark red, it was him.’_

Sherlock had barely noticed the door open but as he heard footsteps, he swiftly swivelled around to see Mike and a stranger, a man.

“Well, it’s a bit different from my day.”

“You have no idea.”

Sherlock quickly looked back to the computer, to finish his email, when he noticed his light. His little otter was glowing green. Sherlock slowly took the toy into his hand and slinked it into his coat pocket.

He knew the green wasn’t from Mike and so it had to be the stranger. Sherlock glanced at the man again. His mind ran wild with deductions. _Army. Doctor. Army Doctor. Psychosomatic limp. Hot. Fit. New flatmate._

He rapidly noticed that he was staring and got back to his emails. “Mike, can I borrow you phone? No signal on mine.”

“And what’s wrong with the landline?” Mike asked, noticing that the toy was not on Sherlock’s desk, like all the times before. Something was up. Mike briefly glanced to John and then back to Sherlock, smirking.

“I’d rather text.”

“Sorry, other coat.”

“Oh, here, use mine,” John was quick to say. Taking his phone out of his pocket and offering it to Sherlock.

Sherlock proceeded to take the phone from John. “Oh, thank you.”

“Old mate of mine, John Watson,” Mike said.

Sherlock sat as he began sending the text but continued to talk. From the phone, he picked up a few more titbits of information. _Brother. Alcoholic. Walked out on wife. Bad sibling relationship._

After he handed back the phone and Molly had been and gone, Sherlock was at the door, about to leave. He was eager to get his light far away from John, so there was no way that it would be given away this early. They had just met, after all.

“We don’t know a thing about each other. I don’t know your name, I don’t even know where we’re meeting,” John said.

Sherlock looked down with a smug smile drawn across his face. If he couldn’t tell this hot army doctor that he was his soulmate quite yet, he could impress him. “I know you’re an army doctor and you’ve recently been invalided home from Afghanistan. I know you’ve got a brother with a bit of money who’s worried about you but you won’t go to him for help because you don’t approve of him. Possibly because he’s an alcoholic. More likely because he recently walked out on his soulmate.  And I know your therapist thinks your limp’s psychosomatic. Quite correctly, I’m afraid.  That’s enough to be going on with, don’t you think?”

Sherlock turned and was going to leave when it suddenly struck him. John still didn’t know his name. “The name’s Sherlock Holmes and the address is 221B Baker Street.” He winked with elegance. “Afternoon.” A quick nod followed and he dashed out of the room. Swiftly, he backed up against a wall.

With shaky fingers, he pulled out his toy. It was a bit battered up now, life is never too kind to a soft toy but it was obvious the poor otter had been well looked after. He stared at the light, the fully green light. That glowing dark rich green which meant his soulmate was there, _right there_ , in that room.

He smiled and shoved the toy into his pocket. When he heard the other door open, he quickly darted through a door that led down to the mortuary.

Sherlock made his way to Baker Street, full of joy. His soulmate, he had found _his_ soulmate. John Watson. Yes, research had to be done on him. For now, moving in was all that mattered. He jumped out of the taxi and swiftly made his way to the door, knocking.

After a few seconds, Mrs Hudson was at the door. After a hug and a welcome invite, Sherlock looked to the boxes that occupied the front landing.

“Sorry about the mess, Mrs Hudson.”

Mrs Hudson smiled at Sherlock and shuffled past the boxes. “It’s fine, Sherlock. Now, what has got you in such a state?”

“What?”

Mrs Hudson tilted her head and shook it lightly. “You’re all red and, you can’t wipe that smile of your face.”

Sherlock smiled with his eyes. “Ah. Uh, I met my soulmate today. He doesn’t know that he’s my soulmate but Mike brought him in because he needed a flatshare.”

“Oh…! Oh, dear, that’s brilliant! Come on, let’s get you moved in. First impressions are so important, especially with your soulmate.” Mrs Hudson had a gleaming grin on.

For the rest of the day, Sherlock and Mrs Hudson moved the boxes upstairs and Sherlock got properly settled into the place. The furniture had already been placed, all Sherlock needed was his own stuff. His chemistry equipment, including all the chemicals. He had magazines, books and newspapers all over the place. And all his other stuff to go with it. It was quite a mess but, that’s just Sherlock, isn’t it?

Mrs Hudson stood at the door, her arms crossed. “How are we playing it tomorrow?”

Sherlock smiled as he looked out the window. “Just be yourself, Mrs Hudson. I only have to hope he doesn’t run a mile off before I have a chance.”

“He’s your soulmate. While the toy is to guide you and let you know on their wellbeing, your soulmate is meant to understand every part of you, regardless.”

Sherlock shook his head, he dug his hands into his trouser pockets. “How does that even make sense?”

“Sherlock… It’s just our biology. It’ll take a while but if his toy doesn’t make him realise, something else will. Perhaps a single touch.”

“Ha, I’d only be so lucky. I suppose I’ve got to hope he keeps his light around with him, right?”

“Right.” Mrs Hudson smiled once again. “Now, it’s late, you get yourself off to bed.”

“Thank you... for the help.”

“It’s not a bother, I’m glad I could help you.”

The two exchanged a few smiles and a hug before Sherlock carted himself off to his bedroom. The toy, the otter, lay on his bed and he took it into his hands. Holding the poor thing close to him. He slipped under the covers and held the otter close to his chest as he slept.

The next day rolled by like no tomorrow and Sherlock had just rolled up in a taxi. Lucky for him, John was standing right there. A quick handshake, greeting Mrs Hudson and into the messy flat. Awkward moment shared and then, an exciting conversation.

“I looked you up on the internet last night.” 

“Anything interesting?” 

“Found your website, The Science of Deduction.” 

“What did you think?” 

“Quite amusing, I suppose.” 

Sherlock frowned, just a bit. “Amusing?” 

“You said you could identify a software designer by his tie and… What was it? A retired plumber by his left hand.” 

“Yes.”

“How?”

“You read the article.”

“The article was absurd.” 

“I use my senses, John. For example, your phone has an engraving. Easy. Your brother, Harry, and his wife, Clara. Three kisses says it’s a soulmate, expense of the phone says wife. She’s given it to him recently, the model is only six months old. Giving it away at only six months? A relationship in trouble then. If she had left him, he’d have kept it. People do, sentiment. But no, he wanted rid of it. He left her. He gave the phone to you, which says he wants to stay in touch and that he’s worried about you. However, you haven’t gone to him for help, that says you have problems with him. There’s tiny scuff marks around the edge of the power connection. Every night he plugs it in to recharge but his hands are shaking. You never see those marks on a sober man’s phone, never see a drunk’s without them. Conclusion? Your brother is an alcoholic.”

John stared bewildered. “That was… amazing.”

Sherlock furrowed his eyebrows, in surprise. “Really? That’s not what people normally say.”

“What do they normally say?”

“Piss off.”

Both John and Sherlock chuckled away. Who knew so much happiness could come from observing rather than just seeing.

John looked to Sherlock with admiration in his eyes. “Anything else you want to add?”

“Plenty but… I’m more interested in your soulmate toy.”

John knitted his brow. “Why?”

“Because, from the way you hold yourself, I’d say you don’t carry it around with you.”

John scoffed. “Who does these days?” he said, expecting a laugh from Sherlock but instead, Sherlock’s mask came crashing down and John was quick to note this occurrence. “Wait- You do?”

“…I- I know it’s unusual but yes, I do.”

John smiled. “Do you mind if I see…?”

“If- If you do, promise not to say anything harsh.”

John gave Sherlock a reassuring smile, even his eyes were reassuring. “I wouldn’t dare.”

Sherlock nodded and darted over to his room. Upon entering, he delicately picked his otter up. He stared at the green emitting from the gem and lightly smiled. But that smile was clouded by fear. What if John runs? What if he’s got it wrong and his light is just malfunctioning?

His fear heightened as his door was pushed slightly open behind him. He went still and his breathing slowed so much that he was almost holding his breath. John must have been right next to him, he must have known exactly what was going on in that moment.

“Oh…” John sounded.

Sherlock was definitely holding his breath now and he stayed completely still. His eyes were closed and his hand was only loosely holding the toy.

“Sherlock…?” John called out, trying to comfort him. He slowly walked in front of him and placed his hand over the otter. He, gently, placed his other hand on Sherlock’s cheek and smiled. And Sherlock could feel that, the smile, even though he couldn’t see. Through the touch of his soulmate, he could feel that expression, he really could.

Sherlock slowly opened his eyes, finally seeing this vast smile from John.

“You don’t have to be scared, Sherlock. It’s ok.”

Sherlock let out his breath, at long last. He smiled, lightly. “Is it?”

“Yes… Honestly, I’m glad. I’m honoured that someone as beautiful as you is my soulmate.” John grinned, ear to ear.

Sherlock’s smile evolved into a grin and his eyes were already besotted. “Same to you. I’m surprised I could be so lucky.”

The two of them kept smiling at each other when-

“Sherlock? Where are you?”

Lestrade. Probably there with another case. Sherlock placed the otter down and both he and John returned to the living room.

“Oh, there you a-” Lestrade rapidly noticed John by Sherlock’s side. “Oh, sorry, am I interrupting?”

Sherlock briefly glanced at John. “It’s fine, Lestrade. What have you got this time?”

“Those serial suicides, there’s been a fifth.”

“Where?”

“Brixton, Lauriston Gardens. Will you come?”

“Who’s on forensics?”

“Anderson.”

“Anderson won’t work with me.”

“He won’t be your assistant.”

“But I _need_ an assistant.” Sherlock looked to John and realisation was plastered on his face. “Can Doctor John Watson be my assistant?”

Lestrade gave John the once over. “If he’s with you, then fine. Will you come?”

“Yes.”

The three of them set off and made it towards the crime scene. Sherlock worked some stuff out, John was only a bit of help and then Sherlock was off on the rooftops, in which only John got to see his beauty. The way the moon shone on him, the way the rain only looked beautiful while it fell around him and the way his hair and coat swayed in the wind. It was perfect and magical, to say the least.

Soon enough the two of them were in Angelo’s, staking out 22 Northumberland Terrace.

Angelo made his way over, with a huge smile on his face. “Sherlock…! Anything on the menu, whatever you want, free. All on the house, you and your date.”

John glanced at Sherlock, asking if this was a date. And Sherlock only gave a slight smile. John nodded and smiled proudly, looking off to Angelo.

“Ohh, this man got me off a murder charge!” Angelo said, clearly trying to big Sherlock up.

“This is Angelo. Three years ago, I successfully proved to Inspector Lestrade that at the time of a particularly vicious triple soulmate murder, Angelo was in a completely different part of town, carjacking.”

Angelo, now holding Sherlock’s shoulders, smiled. “He cleared my name.”

“Cleared it a bit.”

“Anything on the menu, I cook it myself. If not for you, I’d have gone to prison.”

Sherlock looked up to Angelo. “You did go to prison.”

Angelo, now looking awkward, changed the subject. “I’ll get you a candle for the table. It’s more romantic, huh?”

John only smiled as Angelo disappeared. Sherlock, with smitten eyes, grinned. As John picked up the menu, Sherlock moved his away.

“You may as well eat, we’ll be waiting a long while.”

“…Are you going to?”

Sherlock furrowed his eyebrows. “What day is it?”

“It’s Wednesday.”

“I’m ok for a bit.”

“You haven’t eaten today? For gods sake, you need to eat!”

John’s eyes were so full of concern that Sherlock felt compelled to pick up the menu. Before long, they both had dishes in front of them and were eating, whilst watching. John felt proud that he had gotten Sherlock to eat, through all the people he had talked to, it seemed Sherlock was a difficult man. He was only happy that, he, his soulmate, could get Sherlock to at least listen to him.

Sherlock began to explain his thinking when a taxi pulled up. A smile sprung to his lips, a confident one.

“Angelo, glass of white wine, quickly!” Sherlock looked to the cab once more. “I give you the perfect murder weapon of the modern age, the London cab.”

John lightly shook his head as he watched the taxi “There’s been cabs up and down this street all night.”

“This one’s stopped.”

“He’s looking for a fare.” Both of them watched as a woman was rejected by the taxi driver. “We don’t know it’s him,” John said, still hesitant.

“We don’t know it isn’t.” Angelo appeared with the white wine, placing it down on the table. “Thank you.” Sherlock proceeded to splash the wine over his face, surprising both Angelo and John. The luscious wine dripped off of Sherlock’s face and soaked into his shirt. Swiftly, Sherlock dabbed the wine off his face with a napkin. “Watch. Don’t interfere,” he said as he pulled his coat on. “Angelo, headless nun.”

“Ahh, now that was a case! Same again?”

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

As Angelo grabbed Sherlock pulling him up, John grabbed onto Sherlock’s arm, pulling him away. Angelo, instantly, released his hold and stopped at the side-lines.

“No,” John said, firmly. “You’re not going out there. If it is the murderer, you could be putting yourself in danger.” John placed a hand on Sherlock’s cheek getting him to look into his eyes.

It’s rumoured that a soulmate’s touch is all you need to unlock common sense. They bring you back to earth, they ground you. Sherlock knew now, that leaving John’s side in this moment, was foolish and unnecessary.

“Yeah, you’re right. Sorry. That is a bit stupid, isn’t it?”

John gazed into Sherlock’s eyes. “…Were you going out there to try and impress me?”

Sherlock’s eyes diverted from John’s sight. “Yes…”

“You don’t have to do that, we’re soulmates, I’m meant to love you for you… It’s in our DNA. You don’t have to impress me any more than you already have.”

Sherlock smiled and John looked up to him with his gleaming eyes. Angelo stepped back and tended to other customers, leaving the two alone. Only, the entire restaurant was watching them. But that hardly mattered to John and Sherlock.

John pulled Sherlock down, into a kiss. A loving, beautiful kiss.

Most soulmates take a bit of time before getting into romance but, this was an exception. A perfect moment, due to John basically saving Sherlock a lot of hassle. Their eyes were closed in this soft, loving way. Their hands were attempting to pull each other in even closer. All while their ears and cheeks flushed with a glorious red.

They slowly parted and as they did, the restaurant roared in applause. The two were gazing into each other’s eyes but that was swiftly broken by Sherlock looking out the window. He caught a glimpse of the taxi’s number plate before the cab drove down the street, far away from 22 Northumberland Terrace.

“Got his number plate?” John asked, whispering.

Sherlock faced John once more. “Yes. LL58 ULE. We’ll report it to the police. For now… let’s just finish dinner, ok?”

“Sounds good to me,” John said, with a smile.

The two finished their dinner while having more… pleasant conversations. At one point, Sherlock quickly texted Lestrade, detailing his findings and the number plate. Afterwards, the two of them had a glass of wine and had the nicest puddings on the menu.

“We should go to my flat tomorrow, to get my stuff,” John said, with a slight bit of hesitance mixed in.

Sherlock smiled. “That’s hardly protocol for soulmates.”

“Nothing about today has been protocol. Besides, the whole ‘wait two weeks’ thing is idiotic. It’s hard enough to find your soulmate, never mind waiting.” John chuckled a little, smiling.

“Hmm… that’s true.” Sherlock laughed to himself. “I can’t wait to see your toy.”

John smirked. “I’m not telling you what it is until you see it. But you can guess…”

“Uhh, a puppy?”

John shook his head. “This is gonna be a long night…”

Whilst the two were sitting in the back of the taxi, making their way to Baker Street, Sherlock gave the guessing a second go.

“A mammoth?”

John swiftly looked to Sherlock. “A ma- What? No, ‘course not.”

“Shame… Mammoths are cool.”

John shook his head, with a smile on his face. “They are, but my toy is a much smaller animal.”

Sherlock stroked his chin, in thought. “An anteater?”

“Ok, now you’re going too exotic.”

“I know I’ll never guess but, this is fun.”

John chortled. “I’m sure it is.”

When they got back, the two plopped down on the sofa. John began reading a newspaper, Sherlock began replying to emails using his laptop. The small TV was on in the background. At this point, Sherlock decided now was the perfect time to ask again.

“A giraffe?”

“Nope.”

“An elephant?”

“Not at all.”

Sherlock looked to the ceiling. He closed his eyes and sorted through some animals. John looked to him briefly, wondering what the hell he was doing when Sherlock’s eyes flung open.

“A mouse?”

“No, but you’re on the right scale now.” John grinned to himself and went back to his newspaper.

“A rat?”

“No, but do keep going.”

All through the night Sherlock blurted out random animals, time and time again John had to keep saying no but that Sherlock was somewhat close. By the time the morning rolled around, John wished he had never initiated the game.

“A squirrel?” Sherlock asked as he sat in his chair, sipping at a cup of tea.

“You guessed that last night,” John replied as he was eating breakfast at the table.

“Did I?”

“To be fair, I think you were half asleep.”

“Oh… Hm. A guinea pig?”

“How come you’ve been on the right track all this time but you still haven’t guessed?”

Sherlock shrugged, taking a sip of his tea. “The only way to solve this is to go to your flat and then I can see how wrong I am.” He grinned, not even caring that he was so very wrong in all his guesses.

After a quick breakfast and a somewhat long ride in a taxi, they were at John’s - soon to be - old flat. They made their way in and John swiftly picked up a few things, shoving them into a box he had taken from Baker Street.

He made his way over to a desk and opened a drawer. Sherlock just loitered in the middle of the room while John grabbed at something and pulled out his toy. Evident from the glowing green light at that side of the room.

“I never knew how amazing it could be to see this green light,” John softly said.

Sherlock approached him, swiping his hand across John’s back, looking over his shoulder to see the toy. “…That’s a hedgehog.”

John smiled, uncontrollably. “It is.”

Sherlock’s eyes beamed. “I was going to guess that at one point, I swear.”

John looked up to Sherlock, with eyes of admiration and doubt. “Sure…”

“No, really! I was!”

“I want to believe you, I really do but… I don’t.” He smirked.

Sherlock shrugged. “Well, doesn’t matter if you don’t believe me… At least I know the truth.”

John chuckled. “After you guessed squirrel, I was worried.”

“Hedgehogs just slipped my mind, I guess.”

John smirked once more. “You’re not good at guessing, you should stick to facts.”

“A soulmate toy is the most personal thing, even with facts, I could never guess such a private item.” Sherlock stared at the hedgehog, consumed by green. “Why a hedgehog?”

“The story my parents tell is that I was indecisive. I wanted a toy with the same colour hair as me. But then I still couldn’t choose, until, I saw this hedgehog. Then, the rest is history, as they say.” John laughed to himself.

“I picked my otter for a similar reason… I said it looked like me and wouldn’t stop giggling to myself.”

John looked at Sherlock compassionately. “…They do say soulmates have similar thought processes.”

Sherlock grinned. “That they do.”

Within hours, John had fully moved in and was settling down on the sofa. A box lay on the ground in front of him, with only one item left inside. John, carefully, reached into the box and took his little hedgehog out. It was definitely in better condition than Sherlock’s otter but a few of its spines had fallen out.

“It’s quite cute,” Sherlock said, plonking himself down on the sofa. To John’s surprise he was wrapped in a silky blue dressing gown, yet, he still had his suit on.

“It is… You should get your otter.”

Sherlock bolted up from the chair and whisked his way over to his room, his dressing gown flowing behind him. John grinned with glee and when Sherlock returned, he was still grinning.

“What…?” Sherlock asked with a chuckle.

John shook his head slightly. “Just, your dressing gown. Makes you look like a princess.”

Sherlock chortled as he sat back down. “Not all princesses wear dresses. And not all princes wear robes.”

They both smiled and John leant closer to Sherlock, kissing his cheek. Sherlock couldn’t help but blush and the two of them looked to their toys. The green seemed to get richer the closer they were and the two of them pushed the toys together. As they did so, they held hands and then… something quite peculiar happened.

Spurts of yellow appeared in the green. Slowly, the green was overwhelmed by this yellow. In the shock of it, both John and Sherlock stopped holding hands, to inspect their toy more closely. But as they did so, the yellow was taken over by the green quite rapidly.

Mrs Hudson stood at the doorway, with a tray of tea. Her mouth gaped and as she entered the room, she set the tea down on the coffee table.

“…I thought that was a myth,” she said, shocked.

Sherlock glanced at Mrs Hudson. “The yellow?” he inquired.

“Yes, the yellow. It’s rare enough for people to put their toys together, never mind seeing that light. Because many don’t get to see it, I thought it was just a story.”

John looked to Mrs Hudson. “How much do you know?”

Mrs Hudson shrugged and shook her head. “Not much, dear.”

“I’ve done plenty of research on the lights, how have I never come across this?” Sherlock questioned.

“Perhaps because many don’t think it happens?” John wondered.

“Perhaps.” Sherlock picked up his laptop from the coffee table and placed it on his lap. He searched for the occurrence, finding a few articles and a recent PhD. “Oh my god… Yes, it says here…. When both soulmates put their lights close together and make any skin contact, the gems light up in a sunflower yellow. …Wait a second- Oh. It only happens when both soulmates only have the one soulmate.”

John looked to Sherlock with caring eyes. “So, we only have each other?”

Sherlock faced John and smiled lightly. “Yes, we do. At least we get a nice light out of it.”

John chuckled. “It is a nice colour.”

“It’s nice to know it’s real,” Mrs Hudson said, smiling. “I’ll let you boys get on.”

“See you later, Mrs Hudson,” John remarked as Sherlock was still engrossed in the articles. “Found anything else?”

“No… But it’s interesting, isn’t it? That we only have each other, I mean, that’s rare. _Really_ rare. 90% of the population have at least three soulmates. Out of the 10%, 9.9% only have two. We’re literally the 0.1%.”

John’s eyes widened, his eyebrows raised. “…Wow. Those are interesting statistics.”

“Indeed. I understand now why the yellow hasn’t had much research… There’s a few panicked forums online… The PhD is where I got the information.”

“Huh…” John sounded.

He stretched out his arm, asking for the otter. Slowly, Sherlock passed it over to him and watched as John squashed the toys together, placing them on the table. With the gentleness of a tired puppy, John took Sherlock’s hand into his own. They observed as the green was once more, taken over by yellow. They both smiled, grinning. As always, it takes time for a relationship to blossom, even with soulmates… But there was something about these two fools that just seemed like it was love from the very start.

On Sherlock’s request, they placed the toys on the mantelpiece, for everyone to see. And if anyone came over, they were sure to display the yellow. At first, it seemed daunting but it was just a special sign of their love.

Lestrade popped in a couple days after, something about… the cabbie case, or A Study in Pink as John would call it. To Sherlock’s surprise. Although, the surprise was more towards John thinking people would be interested, rather than much else. 

John and Sherlock were sitting in their chairs, drinking some tea when Lestrade haphazardly waltzed into the flat. His eyes swiftly traced over the two green lights and then darted between Sherlock and John, respectively.

“You two are-” Lestrade attempted to ask.

“Yes,” Sherlock replied, already knowing the question.

“You didn’t know what I was going to say.”

“You were going to ask if we’re soulmates, which we are. I just saved you the trouble of completing the sentence,” Sherlock said, with a smirk. Which made John laugh a little more than he should have.

Lestrade only stared for a second. “Yep, I’m seeing the soulmate thing now.”

“Why are you here, Inspector?” Sherlock queried.

“That information you gave us on the murderer… Led us straight to him and we arrested him this morning.”

“Good!” Sherlock smiled. “Do you know why he did it?”

“Said he was killing people just to prove he could outlive them, as he has an aneurysm.”

“Ah. How long has he got?”

“A few months? But he’ll spent the rest of his days locked up.”

“Not a good way to go,” John said.

“Not at all, but it’s what he deserves,” Sherlock stated.

“I do have another case for you. Sergeant Dimmock asked for you personally.”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow as he took a sip of tea. “Did he? What’s troubling him now?”

“A limbless torso was found in luggage, at Waterloo station. It can’t be identified, and we were hoping you could help.”

Sherlock nodded. “Forensics should know this, so you’ll just have to wait for a report. But if the person had tattoos, there’ll be traces of ink in the lymph nodes, under the armpits. That’s the closest you’ll get for identification if blood gets you nowhere.”

“You’ll not come?”

“Not much I can do with a limbless torso, forensics will do the work for you.”

“Ok, well, if it gets anymore baffling, I’ll contact you.”

“I’m sure you will.”

Lestrade dashed out of the flat without a second thought. Sherlock and John shared a brief glance before they got back to reading newspapers.

“We should have showed him the yellow light,” John said from behind his newspaper.

Sherlock folded up his newspaper and placed it on the floor. “That would have thoroughly disturbed him, I think. Considering his soulmate left him a few months ago. She cheated on him and ever since his light has gone dark red. …Seems cheating and abandoning your soulmate is as bad as death.”

“Well, it’s complicated, isn’t it? We are human after all.”

“It appears not all soulmates are meant to be, especially if you have more than one.”

John also folded up his newspaper and put it on the table beside him. “Does that mean people with only one are especially destined?” John questioned, with a smirk.

Sherlock grinned. “On the balance of probability? I’d say so.”

A few more days seemed to fly by and suddenly, certain tensions were starting to build. The protocol when you meet your soulmate is to go out on a few dates and then after two weeks, move in. And as society says, prove that you’re truly soulmates, at that point. But John and Sherlock had done it the completely wrong way, by most people’s standards. They had moved in instantly and had only had one date. Now, barely a week in, it wasn’t any normal argumentative tensions that were rising. No, not at all. It was the good ol’ fashioned sexual tension.

They were sticking to protocol in that respect. But every time Sherlock’s arm brushed against John’s as they were cooking in the kitchen… Or when John would find Sherlock on the sofa, only wrapped in a sheet… Something within them growled with desire. Soulmates are supposed to click instantly, know almost anything about the other’s personality but with John and Sherlock, it was as if they had been pining for years. That’s how severe the tension was.

It came to a point where they accidently bumped into each other in the middle of the living room. This was due to John looking at his newspaper as he walked, and Sherlock looking at his phone. They skirted around each other and then John spun around.

“How much longer?” he whined, you could practically feel his desire in his voice, his tone.

Sherlock sighed. “It’s not- Soul- This-” Sherlock swivelled around, his curls moving in a whirlwind as he did. “This is ridiculous, isn’t it?” Sherlock put his phone down on the table beside him and huffed. “It’s against protocol though. In order to have a stable-”

Sherlock’s entire body shivered when John stepped closer to him. His sentence died instantly and all thoughts flew out of his mind. His expression became soft, then his face scrunched. Clearing away thoughts, very particular thoughts.

“How… do others manage… this want- desire?” Sherlock asked, his voice now shaky and hoarse.

John lightly shook his head. “They must lie because I’ve never felt this pull before.”

Sherlock stepped closer this time and, they were so close. Very close. Not even arm’s length. No… so much closer than that.

John reached out, placing his hand behind Sherlock’s neck. He shuffled forward just a tad more, which made their hips brush. Sherlock’s hands went looking too, in which one stopped by John’s cheek and the other settled on his shoulder. Instantly, John’s other hand clasped around Sherlock’s forearm and they stayed there, watching. Gazing. For a moment. Before they dived straight in. That desire running through them like electricity. Their destined _one_ , locked in each other’s hold. Their lights lit up with the brightest yellow it could ever emit. Shinning into the two’s closed eyelids. But that hardly mattered and it barely distracted them.

The kissing was light and in small amounts, at first. But then Sherlock just had to slightly part his lips. John’s tongue wetly traced Sherlock’s lips before diverting to the inside of Sherlock’s mouth. From then on? It got a whole lot more passionate. With the suddenness of it all, Sherlock fell back a little but John cancelled that out by pushing him back, up against the wall.

Their hands _really_ began exploring but at least being up against the wall made that task a little easier. Soon enough, John was leading Sherlock to his bedroom and with the slam of the door, it signalled their privacy.

Morning, sure enough, arrived, in all its glory. By some kind of miracle, both John and Sherlock were up. Eating breakfast at the table, unable to stop smiling and stop staring- gazing at each other. If you were to taste the air in the flat, it would taste like romance. Among other things.

Footsteps were a sudden sound to the two and before the person could even knock at the door, Sherlock raised his head, a soft smirk on his lips.

“She’s not the one,” he said as the person walked in, shaking their head.

“Thought I had it this time.” A man of average height and good looks stood in the doorway, arms folded. He wore a tie with skulls upon it and his suit was of the highest quality.

“Molly, though?” Sherlock asked with a laugh, facing the man. “We all know your soulmate is not a woman, Jim.”

Jim let his arms collapse to his side. “Yes but, her’s glowed green around me.”

“Was someone else in the room? I’m fairly sure soulmates always come in pairs.”

Jim looked to the ground, his brows knitted together. Thoughts ran wild in his head. “…Oh.” Jim turned back to Sherlock. “There was someone under the desk. …I knew something was strange.”

Sherlock nodded. “Moran is your soulmate,” he declared.

Jim tilted his head. “…How do you know?”

“Your light glowed up when he touched your arm, last time I was there. One of the brightest greens I’ve ever seen.”

Jim, now startled, dashed out of the flat like no tomorrow. Sherlock turned back to his toast and took another bite, John only stared. And it was staring. He had no idea what had just occurred.

“Who was that?” John wondered, pointing at the empty doorway.

“Old friend. Met him at uni. Used to be me, him and this guy called Victor. We were all close and at the time, the only people we could trust.”

“Ah, didn’t want to tell people you were gay?”

“Even in a world run by soulmates and love, loving someone of the same gender is still shunned... I’m only happy we live in such a progressive place.”

John stared at the doorway. “Indeed.” John took a breath. “Why was he here?”

“He’s always asking about soulmates. I thought I’d do him a favour for once.”

John looked to Sherlock in wonder. “You really care about people, don’t you?”

“There’s a lot of suffering and a lot of puzzles to solve. Caring about people is a relief and kindness.”

“Sounds like you’ve had a hard time.”

Sherlock gazed into John’s eyes. “Not too hard but hard enough…”

John gave a reassuring smile. “I hope I can make things bright.”

Sherlock glanced to the two toys. “…You already have.”

And the two just looked to each other. Already with such hope and admiration and perhaps, eventually, true love. Times would be difficult and challenging. Sherlock’s line of work had proved that. However, soulmates, like anyone, have to work at a relationship to keep it strong. They would survive all the times to come just because they believed in the lights.

The lights that will always guide you, reassure you and at one point, may even destroy you. But at the end of the day, the lights will always shine bright when your soulmate is by your side.


End file.
